


Dreamweaver

by flyy0ufools



Series: Season 12 Stories [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Season/Series 12, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 08:12:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10382340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyy0ufools/pseuds/flyy0ufools
Summary: Jensen has a nightmare.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song Dream Weaver by Gary Wright.

Jensen was back in Vancouver again, filming episode…20? 21? He couldn’t remember, he was so tired that it felt like his brain had liquefied. He was riding in the backseat of the SUV, head lolling on Jared’s shoulder. He could see Clif looking at them every so often in the rearview mirror. Jensen couldn’t tell if the expression on his face was one of fondness or one of warning; maybe a mix of the two. He had no energy to care right now; then again, he really hadn’t cared for awhile now. He was getting bolder, Jared was getting even more handsy, and he just _couldn’t care_ anymore.

Jensen felt the car stop and realized that his eyes were closed. When he finally managed to open them, Jared was sliding out of the car and gently pulling Jensen along with him. They were in front of the building where Jensen’s apartment was located. On paper it was only his, but in reality it was Jared’s as well. Jared had his own, though it was mostly just for the sake of appearances and used as extra storage space for them both. They usually stayed at Jensen’s because his was closer to set, which meant more time that they could spend in bed (though usually that just meant them passed out from exhaustion).

Jared had to half-drag, half-carry Jensen through the lobby and to the elevators. Jensen dozed off while they were waiting, his head once again resting on Jared’s shoulder. Jared shook him awake.

“Dude, you just fell asleep standing up.” He was giving Jensen that smile that said normally he’d be laughing but it was too late and they were too tired and he didn’t want to make any noise. Jensen loved that smile because he was the only one who ever got to see it.

“Yeah, ‘m kinda tired,” Jensen practically slurred.

“You sound drunk,” Jared replied as the elevator doors opened. Jensen couldn’t argue; sleep deprivation always hit him hard, making him act loopy one minute and falling-down drunk the next. And it happened often, which was no surprise. Being one of two leads on an hour-long TV show, which seemed to have the requirement that at least 60% of every episode happen at night, meant lots of late night shoots and early morning calls. He learned to live with it, and being able to use Jared at a personal pillow helped quite a bit.

Somehow they made it up to the apartment and inside, and Jared threw his keys on the table by the door.

“All right, time for bed,” he whispered in Jensen’s ear.

“Nngh,” Jensen agreed as Jared practically carried him into their room. Jensen flopped back sideways onto the bed, legs hanging off so that Jared could get his shoes and jeans off. They’d done this dance countless times, Jensen didn’t even need to count the steps anymore.

Jared made short work of both of their clothes. Jensen felt warm and pliable beneath his partner’s capable hands, and just managed to help Jared twist him longways onto the bed. Jared was strong but Jensen was practically dead weight at this point. Jared slipped into the bed and pulled the covers up around them. Jensen hummed and snuggled close to Jared.

The way they interacted at cons made it seem like Jared was always the more touchy-feely one, but behind closed doors it was a different story. It was Jensen who, at the end the day, exhausted from eighteen hours of filming or an amazing round (or two or three) of sex, completely _glommed_ onto Jared. Tonight was no different as Jared settled onto his back and Jensen rolled onto his side, pushing his body flush again Jared’s. One of Jensen’s hands snaked up and tangled in Jared’s hair while the other one wrapped around Jared’s waist. One leg was thrown over Jared’s thighs, effectively trapping Jared in a Jensen cocoon.

It was nights like this that Jensen loved. Sure, it was 4am and he’d been up for almost 24 hours and he was completely spent, but it was still and quiet in their apartment and in the city outside, and he could pretend he and Jared were the only two people in the world. And with their bodies pressed together like this, Jensen couldn’t help feeling like his very molecules were sinking into the spaces between Jared’s own, fitting together like atomic puzzle pieces. One time he told a crowd that he and Jared were made for each other, but that didn’t even begin to describe how intertwined they were.

“I can feel you smiling,” Jared murmured. “What’re you thinkin’ about?” Jared’s Texas drawl was getting more pronounced as he got closer to sleep, and it sent warmth shooting through Jensen’s body, partly from arousal and partly from a feeling of just _being home_.

“Molecules,” Jensen whispered in reply. Jared chuckled.

“Babe, you sound stoned.”

“Our molecules, Jare,” Jensen tried to clarify. “They fit, y’know?” He somehow found the energy to slide himself on top of Jared, letting his weight rest fully on on his partner. He found Jared’s mouth with his own and they kissed deeply, Jensen’s tongue flicking around and then between Jared’s parted lips. Jared moaned and Jensen felt him harden beneath him.

“Mm, happy t’see me babe?” Jensen chuckled and Jared groaned again, his hips bucking up slightly before he gently pushed Jensen back to his side.

“God, Jen…you’re killin’ me. But you are really out of it right now, I can’t.”

“Hmph,” Jensen grunted.

“Tomorrow morning, k babe?” Jared whispered, then kissed Jensen’s forehead, nose, lips, then forehead again. Jensen hummed quietly in agreement before passing out.

~ ~ ~

Jensen was standing on stage in front of a couple dozen fans, his head hanging down slightly with his forehead pressed again the microphone. Jared was sitting on the edge of the stage listening to a fan who was crying more than talking. Jensen was so sick of this. He was sick of watching his other half constantly be bombarded with crying fans treating him as if he were their own personal therapist. Jensen was thinking that maybe they should start screening con questions again when he noticed a block of fans walking slowly towards the stage. He froze for a minute, trying to figure out what was happening. His gut was hit with a bolt of white-hot fear which snapped him into action. He started moving towards Jared, who was only a few feet away, but he didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Before he could process any of this, the group of people seemed to suddenly appear at the foot of the stage, right in front of Jared. Jensen was able to see them clearly and he panicked. It was a horde of wailing fans dressed in black robes like wraiths, their arms reaching towards Jared, scooping him up and above them. If they had just finished winning a basketball game, it might have looked like they were holding him up in victory; instead, he looked like a sacrifice.

“Jared! JARED!” Jensen shouted. He was still trying to move, to get off the stage, but for every step he took the floor slid backwards underneath him like some sort of sadistic treadmill. Jared was facing towards him and Jensen could see that his eyes were wide with fear and his mouth was moving, silently at first, and then—

“JENSEN HELP JENSEN JENSEN JENSEN…” His cries got quieter as he was carried farther away from the stage, but Jensen didn’t stop screaming.

“JARED! NO DON’T—JARED!”

“Jensen!” Jared’s voice cut sharply through the haze of the auditorium and the wails of the deadly fans, and Jensen couldn’t figure out why Jared’s voice sounded so different when he was forced awake by a quick slap on the cheek.

Jensen opened his eyes and looked around wildly as he sucked in a deep breath. He felt his body twisting around under the sheets in fear before he realized he was staring directly into Jared’s eyes. He stilled himself, trying to regulate his breathing so that he’d calm down. Jensen swallowed thickly, not daring to take his eyes off Jared’s.

“What happened?” he asked after a few minutes.

“Nightmare,” Jared breathed out in relief when he realized Jensen was back with him completely. “You were screaming my name, sounded like you were watching me die or something. Scared the shit outta me.” Jensen breathed out heavily as he brought a hand up and scrubbed at his face. Jared’s hand landed gently on top of his.

“You’re rubbing your skin raw,” he whispered. Jensen could tell Jared was well past concerned and had settled into mildly terrified. “What…I…fuck, Jen.” Jared paused, then repeated, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Jensen finally spoke. Jared stroked his thumb over Jensen’s cheek down to his jaw and then back up for a few minutes before coming to rest on his bottom lip.

“Wanna tell me what it was about?” he asked. Jensen shrugged. He really didn’t, because it was a stupid dream, not even that scary. He was also worried that if Jared found out, he would somehow find a way to blame himself, and Jensen _definitely_ could not let that happen.

Jared’s fingers moved, wiping underneath Jensen’s eyes. Jensen didn’t realize he’d been crying a little until he saw the tears on Jared’s fingertips. He rolled away from Jared and over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow.

“’m fine, Jay.” Even muffled he could still hear the slight shake to his voice, which meant Jared certainly heard it too. Right on cue, Jared snorted in disbelief.

“Look, we’re both awake now, and I know I’m not gonna be able to fall back asleep for at least half an hour. So please, just talk to me.” He was lightly rubbing circles in Jensen’s back, trying to coax him out. Jensen huffed before turning back over. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling as he relayed the dream in a monotone voice.

“Nashville. The morning panel. It was going so well, and then…that last question, where the girl was crying…” Jensen trailed off, trying to keep any emotions out of his voice and off his face.

“And…?” Jared urged kindly.

“And suddenly there were a bunch of them. They pulled you off the stage and held you up like some kind of sacrifice.” Jensen’s voice cracked on the last word, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop. “And I tried to move but I couldn’t, and they just carried you away and you looked so scared and you were yelling for me and I still couldn’t fucking _move_.” He was breathing heavy when he finished; his fear had morphed into anger, anger directed at all the fans who thought they were entitled to ask Jared those questions.

Jared didn’t say anything, just pulled Jensen over on top of him and wrapped his arms and legs around him. Jensen felt so selfish. Here Jared was protecting him when it should be the other way around. Jensen tried so hard to do that for Jared, to be that for Jared, but sometimes he wasn’t enough, and he _hated_ that.

He gripped Jared’s shoulders tightly and buried his face in his neck. Jensen breathed in the scent of his hair, calming him down and soaking up the tears that he definitely _was not_ shedding. Neither said anything after that; they didn’t need to. As the minutes ticked by, Jensen listened to Jared’s breathing, felt the steady rise and fall of his chest underneath him, the smoothness of Jared’s skin against his own.

His mind drifted, thoughts swirling slowly through his head. He realized that if something didn’t give soon, something else was going to break, and he was terrified that that something else would be Jared.


End file.
